Bad Blood
by Cy8erman
Summary: A very short story about a young Hunter who tracks the most dangerous Prey of all. The ending kinda sucks but I didn't know what to write XD. My first Predator story so R&R please.


Heavy feet pounded the stone roof as a torrent of rain splashed all around, creating shallow puddles in places. Clawed toes scraped the surface beneath them as powerful brown legs, speckled with dark patches, carried their body from roof to roof in a blur of speed. Thick hair pulled into long dreadlocks bounced with each stride. The figure paused for a moment as it crouched, tensed, then was flying forward through the air and landed with groundbreaking force. It turned back to face the way it came as it landed, flitting through various spectrum filters in an attempt to locate its pursuer. Nothing.

The figure let out a sigh and dropped to the ground, staring upwards into the pale face of the silver moon. A large hand with sharp fingernails popped a cable out of the helmet, releasing a whistling burst of steam before the hand grabbed the helmet and lifted it up and off the head. Two yellow eyes stared into the black sky and below them a mouth, enclosed within four short tusk-like mandibles, gasped short, shallow breaths. A string of guttural clicks rose from the throat as the being hefted itself into a sitting position and looked at its body. A thick, luminous green liquid ran down a well built stomach and pooled between muscular thighs. The thin, metal pole stuck out from the centre of the chest like a third appendage. The wound was deep, but the body was strong. Pain was one of the risks of The Hunt... one of many.

The Hunter reached upwards and removed the pole, grunting as it did so. It then reached over to its left wrist and lifted a small panel, removed a thick blade like device and plunged it into the stomach. The mandibles parted and the mouth opened as the Hunter let out a painful roar of agony. The wound in the chest slowly closed as the healing serum reached it. Now, fully healed, the Hunter must return to the Hunt.

He stood proudly and replaced his helmet, inhaling deeply as he did. The city around him lit up as he activated the visor and scanned the rooftops for his Prey. He turned slowly, checking each for any signs of movement. Finding nothing he prepared to return to the Prey's lair. He checked his computer and weapons and, satisfied they were working, turned to leave.

The fist caught him square in the face and sent him flying backwards into a brick chimney. Before he could stand a foot planted itself in his stomach and kicked him across the rooftop. As the Hunter hit the wall he flipped upwards and removed a spear from his back. With a roar he leapt forward, the point aimed at the heart of the Prey. A hand grabbed the spear in midair, suspending both spear and Hunter helplessly in the air. The other hand grabbed the helmeted head and swung the boy into the side of a nearby building. Bricks crumbled as the body collided with them, green specks of glowing blood staining them. The hand shoved the face into the rooftop beneath their feet, breaking helmet and bone with powerful force. The powerful hand swung upwards and sent the body plunging downwards into the streets below.

The body landed on the top of some type of four wheeled metallic vehicle, buckling the framework and destroying it. The native lifeforms, bipedal mammals at an Industrial level, screamed and ran about in panic. Males and females parted ways as the Prey dropped from the rooftop and landed on two feet beside the wrecked vehicle. There was a faint beeping coming from the wreckage and peering in, the Prey saw the Hunter tapping at its arm. A clawed hand slapped the fingers from the wrist computer and dragged the body into the middle of the strip of land designed for vehicular transport.

The damaged Hunter was dropped to the ground as his Prey stood over him. The Hunter's eyes stared up at the Prey, silhouetted against the moon's light. He caught a brief flash of silver as two blades, each as long as his forearm, shot out of the Prey's right wrist. He held them high above the Hunter, staring at them as though they were complete perfection, before turning a helmeted head to the fallen Hunter. In complete silence the Prey plunger the blades downwards into the Hunter's chest. The force of the blow spun the Hunter's head to the right, where he imagined he saw a figure similar to his own but all black walking towards him.

The Black Hunter, the Grim Reaper in his culture, reached a dark hand to the fallen Hunter, and as the Hunter took it he realised that he had never been the Hunter; that from the moment he stepped onto this planet... he had become the Prey. With one last sigh his body expired and his soul went to the honoured halls of his Clan.

The renegade Prey, a Bad Blood exiled from his own clan, swiftly removed the head of the younger, inexperienced Hunter and dragged both head and corpse to his lair; another trophy for the shrine.


End file.
